


wrapped in pleasure

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Occult, Oral Sex, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, eldritch!voldemort, naive summoner!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-03 15:58:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15822192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry knew he was summoning something, but never expected what did appear. And he certainly didn't think that those tentacles would do that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [This_is_your_Heichou_speaking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking/gifts).



Harry flips through the pages of the grimoire once more, the old script hard to read. Using his pointer finger he traced the instructional lines of the summoning ritual once more, before snapping the book closed roughly and leaving it down on the table. 

He runs a hand over the leather cover – he’s pretty sure its human skin that has been sewn roughly together but the antique dealer had seemed reluctant to touch it.

Spinning around, he took sure and steady steps into the roughly drawn chalk shapes on the ground. He had drawn them first, referring to the pages constantly, the wonky outlines just about functional and able to do the job.

This ritual was his ticket to a good life, the low-level demon he knew he was summoning would help him get rich and all it needed was his soul or whatever. Harry couldn’t care less about what was after, he knew he needed the money _now_ and if his hobby of the occult came in handy, then he was going to use any means he had to help himself.

The ritual itself was generic, blood, candles, some chanting. Easy. All he had to do was ensure that the demon didn’t try and trick him, to read the small print in the contract and everything would be _fine_.

But as the ritual finished, his hands soaked in goat’s blood, the black candles surrounded him flickered like a harsh wind was blowing on them, before extinguishing quickly one by one.

He sat up on his knees, finally breaking the prostrated position he had held on the floor while chanting. He watched in confusion and trepidation in the darkness of the room.

A sole candle flickered on, giving the smallest of illumination to the room. It cast long shadows, and Harry could only hear himself breath.

Suddenly, the wall in front of him started oozing.

Black sludge dripped from the centre. It was a thick sludge-like substance, that dripped like oil down the wall.

He watched in horror and fascination as a black tentacle lashed its way out of the wall swinging wildly in the air before latching onto the wall, pushing on it, heaving more of its mass out. 

It was followed by more and more tentacles until a dark writhing mass was present on his wall. And just as he turned to run towards the book, to find out what the hell was happening, a single eye blinked open in the middle of it.

It swivelled around, a bright red iris taking in its new surroundings before it noticed him. It fixed on his form and Harry felt a wave of terror sweep down his spine.

"Hello summoner," rang in his mind, and before he knew it one of the tentacles wrapped tightly around his waist, hoisting him in the air and bringing him closer for inspection. He kicked his legs blindly, thrashing in the air.

Other tentacles set about tearing off his shirt and trousers, flinging the shreds to the side before winding up his legs, towards more private areas of his body making him scratch and flail in terror. He screamed, wriggling in the hold of the cold slimy tentacles, fists clenched around them as he tried to rip them off his body.

But whatever he summoned just seemed to laugh at the small mortal unperturbed by the struggling of his weak mortal body. Grabbing his wrists and ankles, using its hold to spread his legs and arm, leaving him spread eagle and unable to move.

The eye blinked lazily at the sight of him. 

"I have not been summoned in a long time, but I think I am going to enjoy this."

A tentacle now wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it to hardness. Harry tried to focus, to not allow himself to become erect – but oh, the tentacles were warm, and squeezed just right. His face and chest were turning red now in embarrassment as more tentacles came up to tease his nipples and rub gently at his inner thighs.

Another black tentacle wormed its way up his body, curling around his stomach and up his sternum before slowly pushing past his lips and into his mouth. At first, Harry choked at the taste of the slime that coated it, that covered his tongue. He swallowed around the black length, gulping down the copious amounts of ooze that had dripped from it, feeling sick at the thought of it. 

But before he knew it, his throat started relaxing around the length. 

His mind began to fill with haze and the strokes of the other tentacles on his body brought forth bursts of pleasure he didn’t think he would have felt before.

The more he swallowed, the hotter and more feverish he felt, the more the tentacles became his only salvation to the deep burning need and desire dwelling in his belly. 

His cock stood erect and weeping, flushed a deep pink.

Around the girth of the tentacle in his mouth, he started moaning loudly, eyes rolling back in his head as his body was stimulated. 

“My, my, you are a most eager mortal,” the being said in his mind, the deep voice echoing in the cloudy haze of his conscious. He barely registered what the being said, focused on the feeling of the thick slimy tentacles caressing his body.

The tentacle in his mouth slowly retracted, caressing his lips. Harry lunged his head forward trying to swallow the tentacle again.

The being gave a low chuckle, the bright red eye still lazily blinking. It continued to tease him with the tip of that tentacle, Harry’s lust-blown eyes following its tantalising movements in front of him as his mouth ached to be filled once more.

Only to be distracted by the sensation of the tip of a tentacle fondling him instead down below. 

Harry arched his back, his aching body yearning for anything to fill him. It slithered into him slowly, the girth of the tentacle widening as it pressed into his body. He felt full, stuffed to the brim with black slippery tentacles.

“Oh fuck, oh god…” he yelled, as the tentacles on his cock, squeezed and played with him. Slow strokes up and down the shaft of his member.

The dark rumbling voice spoke once more, “There is no God, foolish mortal, there is only me now, only Voldemort.”

Voldemort – something deep within Harry’s head clicked, a page skimmed in the old grimoire. How had he summoned an ancient being of this calibre? Not to mention Voldemort had been known to be extremely picky about who he appeared to. And there had been nothing in the book about. . . this.

His thoughts stalled as pleasure surged through Harry’s body as the tentacle around his dick, opened at the end and swallowed his cock whole. 

The divine feeling of being filled and pleasured in every way made Harry give a whining moan as he came, the tentacles still moving and squirming around him as his body tensed in his orgasm. The tentacle that engulfed his cock drank down his release greedily.

Harry’s overstimulated body was dropped to the floor as the tentacles released him and curled back into the black ooze on the wall. He weakly groaned, shifting on the cold ground.

The ooze on the wall got bigger and bigger, dripping down onto the floor where it expanded. Soon Harry was lying in a puddle of ooze that didn’t seem to be stopping. He could hear dark laughter, as _someone_ started walking out of the sludge.

Harry gaped, the person who came out of the wall looked like him, even had the same mole on the collarbone. But looking closer, this person’s hair was tidier, his nose different and his eyes -

Red, a deep red. Just like Voldemort’s – that great eye that had watched him being used, now divided into two and staring at him from a familiar face.

It was as if he had replicated Harry’s body, only doing the most minor of changes. Voldemort grinned wickedly as he looked down at Harry’s form.

“The fun has only started mortal.”

From his back whipped out the same long black tendrils of tentacles, rushing towards Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort continues to play with Harry.

A tendril slowly trailed over the sweat-slickened skin, a lazy swipe and curling motion. Harry panted from where he was held and tied tight by other tentacles, a strong grasp on his limbs. He squirmed and writhed in their hold. His back lay against the inhumanly cold chest of the eldritch being who held him aloft as though he was as light as a feather.

“Please,” he pleaded weakly, voice hoarse from his screaming, whining and finally whimpering, “I can’t take anymore.” 

The twisted reflection of him smiled serenely with _his_ lips, as he thrusted hips and cock slowly into the loosened hole of the mortal that had mistakenly summoned him.

“But Harry,” purred Voldemort, a self-satisfied voice. He pulled back Harry’s messy fringe, tilting his head backwards so that he could kiss at the scar he had scratched into the summoner’s forehead. A thick line of blood slipped down brown skin. Droplets cascaded down the planes of Harry’s face and dripped off his chin.

“I haven’t got my fill yet,” continued Voldemort, as fingers lazily pinched at Harry’s sore nipples, relishing in the delightful moan he got in return. Pink buds were twisted, pulled and teased.

A tentacle lazily pushed in to fuck inside of Harry alongside the eldritch being’s cock. Harry’s own cock was splitting him open as slimy dark purple tentacles trailed along his body, caressing his member and twirling around sore thighs and calves.

“I-I can’t,” Harry sobbed, sparks of pleasure twining up his spine at the feel of being filled again. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming his whole being.

“Yes, you can,” cooed Voldemort, nuzzling into Harry’s hair and inhaling the pure scent of lust that exuded from the boy. He loved mortals with their permanent shapes and childlike knowledge of the cosmos. He liked their squishy insides and soft flesh, so easy to dig your fingers into and tear apart. But most of all he liked how absolutely depraved they were, whores of Babylon each and everyone - when given the right incentive.

Harry gave a broken whimper as the tentacle pushed further into him, the slim tip slowly becoming thicker. The motion made the sound of squelching fill the room, as his body stretched and stretched. Cum gushed out from him, dripping down Voldemort’s cock. 

Harry’s mouth felt wet with saliva, drool escaping from his mouth as he was jerked up and down by the slow but powerful thrusts of the being he mistakenly summoned.

“Please stop,” Harry cried hoarsely, his body still thrumming with pleasure at every thrust, every movement, every touch. Voldemort chuckled, deep and dark like the slick oil he had oozed from.

“Your wish is my command,” he said mockingly, slowly pulling both cock and tentacle out of Harry. He sucked on Harry’s neck as he did so, lightly nibbling with his teeth.

Harry moaned, the thick slide of the tentacle dropping out of him. His hands clasped around the tendril around his waist, gasping at the empty feeling.

“No, no, put it back in, please,” he whimpered, fingers digging into the flesh of the tentacle around him. Voldemort continued to suckle on his neck, his cock rubbing against the cleft of Harry’s arse. Harry desperately rutted against it, the slick slide giving him no pleasure.

Voldemort finally released Harry’s neck, bite marks embedded in the skin, the surface already purpling. It matched with the dozens of others littering Harry’s body.

“ _You desperate little slut_ ,” the being whispered into his ear.

“First you beg for me to stop,” said Voldemort, nuzzling into the apex of Harry’s neck and shoulder. A tentacle slowly wrapped around the boy’s hard cock, gently clasping it in the twisted tendrils of the dark purple tentacle.

“Then you beg me to continue,” continued Voldemort watching in delight as Harry fucked himself up into the loose hold of a slimy tentacle, desperately whimpering and rutting.

“Please, please, please,” chanted Harry, his eyes blown wide and crazed as he desperately sought after the pleasure he yearned for. Voldemort heaved in a deep breath, eyes closed as he felt the trembling of the young man in front of him. He could feel each delicious shiver of the mortal in his grasp, feel each beat of his heart, each heaving and gasping breath.

“Since you beg,” said Voldemort, right in Harry’s ear, “so nicely.”

Two tentacles curled around one another like snakes mating pushed back inside of Harry, the stretched rim of his hole widening around the intrusion. Voldemort inched back in bit by bit, pushing and pulling the tentacles out and enjoying the sweet sounds of pleasure torn from Harry’s lips. 

Those same exact lips carried on marking Harry with deep sucking kisses along back, neck and shoulder. Blossoming purple bruises were scattered across the tanned body beneath him, muscles flexing beneath his skin as he was breached time and time again by the slick coiling length and girth of swirling tentacles.

“More, more, more,” Harry panted, eyes wild in abandon. Never before had pleasure rocketed through his body like this so untamed and intense. A flame had been lit in his lower belly and he craved anything to send those sweet sparks of pleasure curling through his bloodstream, his toes curling as the tentacles brushed past his prostate time after time.

Voldemort pressed fingertips to the muscled thigh, tracing the line of muscle beneath. Hands wandered across skin, exploring and seeking - Harry’s body was a visual aid to his own. A mole on a hip, a scar on the lower back and delicate thin lines of stretch marks on upper arms.

All now his. Matching mole, scar and stretch marks.

Voldemort ignored his weeping cock, the tentacles acting as though they _were_ his cock, the feeling of tightness around his dark twisting tendrils causing small shivers down his spine.

Harry eagerly lifted hips and pelvis, dropping himself back harshly onto the length of tentacles. Twisting and circling his hips he ground down harder and harder, eager to fill every part of himself with Voldemort's pleasurable tentacles. 

_More. More. More._

He needed this, the harsh slap of skin, loosened hole and dripping come. He needed to be moulded to the eldritch being’s body, to be carved out and shaped by him. Harry lost himself within the sheer blinding pleasure. Tentacles swarming around his form. 

His back arched, muscles straining as his cock pulsed once more, another orgasm rocketing through his body. His lower stomach was coated once more in a stream of come, shining pearlescent on his abdomen. His body slumped. Relaxed into the hold of the being that held him. 

Voldemort grinned from behind Harry’s dusky shoulder as he felt Harry’s body finally give out. Voldemort knew he had a new pet to keep and use as a marionette doll and a source of entertainment. Humans were always such fun little toys.


End file.
